“We’re dead,” she says with bite. “I hope you know that.”
I wish I knew for certain that I’ve done the right thing.
I wish I could tell her she’s wrong.
Truth is—right or wrong—it’s too late to go back.
All we can do now is try to stay alive.
58
FUSION
HAVEN WALKS AWAY without a second glance, and I’m alone.
No one’s made it up to this deck yet. From the sound of the noise—which hasn’t let up since the doors closed at my back—everyone’s still in the mezzanine, like an audience waiting for an encore. Like if they’re loud enough, I’ll come back out: put on a good show, dance gracefully through their questions, trick their eyes with a blinding spotlight that twists darkness into nothing more than an afterthought. Like if I say just the right thing, tell them exactly what they want to hear, they’ll feel better.
I’m not here for that show, not anymore.
I lean my back on the cool steel of the wall and sink down until I’m sitting on the floor. There are probably a thousand things I should be doing instead, but I hold myself still. Curl my knees into my chest. Rest my head. Listen to my own heartbeat.
It’s a strange feeling, the urge I already have to check in on the others of our six, to make sure they’re not dead. I care so deeply for each of them—and yet.
Love is complicated right now.
What will it feel like when I figure out who our killer is? Will my love blink out, like it never happened at all—or is it possible I’ll experience an emotional paradox, where love and fury coexist? When a heart breaks, do the pieces just... crumble? Or do they fuse back together, all gnarled and deformed?
“Mind if I sit?”
I don’t have to look up to know it’s Heath who’s found me. “Go ahead,” I mumble into my knees.
He sinks down beside me, so close my entire left side warms at his presence. I don’t shift away from him, not even slightly, not even with the small voice in my head sayingtrust no one. Minutes tick by, both of us silent and still in the small space of this alcove. Soon, the voice in my head quiets down. He is such a force ofcalm.
“You’re brave, Linds,” he says. “You are so unbelievably brave.”
Finally, I lift my head. Look up at him. “You really think so?”
He nods, slowly. “I like to hope I would’ve done the same thing,” he says with a sad smile. “Don’t think I could’ve gone through with it, though.”
“I get it,” I say. “We’re all afraid of dying, I think.”
“I’m too afraid ofyoudying.”
He looks deep into my eyes, and I take him in—how could I have ever questioned him, for even a single second? Heath neverwould’ve put me in this position. Heath is like me: he wants to bind people up, not break them.
Before I know it, I’m closing the space between us, kissing him full on the mouth. I can’t help it—it’s overwhelming—it is almost certainly a mistake—
But in this moment, it iseverythingto me to know I’m not alone.
To know he sought me out to tell me this, to comfort me—even though I chose to put us all in the crosshairs—
He kisses me back, with the same soft hunger. We fit perfectly, and it is perfectly thrilling, perfectly warm. He understands the risk I’ve taken. He forgives me for it. Headmiresme for it. If I can trust no one else, at least I know this: Heath is safe. And I am safe with him.
We stay in the alcove, and we don’t watch the time. Today could be our last day alive, and everything is falling apart all around us, but this—thisis good. At the very least, there is one good and true thing left. I plan to hold on to it for as long as I can.
And I do—until Heath’s buzz screen starts vibrating like there’s no tomorrow. He pulls away, cheeks flushed. “Sorry,” he says, glancing at the display screen. “So sorry, but I’d better take it.” He holds it up for me to see: Leo’s calling.
“Hey,” he says. “Yeah, no. Yeah.” He pauses, listens. Then, abruptly, he stands and starts pacing small circles in this tiny alcove. “Are you badly hurt?”
